Warlocks are wonderland
by Madelen
Summary: Do Forsaken have a soul? When warlocks meet, will the air only vibrate from demon summonings? Plus: some azerothian history - in case you didn't have a sleeping draught at hand. Rating will become obvious in the following chapters.
1. Don't panic

The whole storyline is a prequel to "Keshi".

Warning: My first try on Troll language.

Sepultros owns his char as well as Oriona ("T'anks fah betain', mon!"). I own my little Orc lock, as usual.

I stole one very true sentence about Trolls from "Wanderlust" (pt.4) by Wayward Crow.  
The titles of the storyline (song by RHCP) and story (song by Coldplay) aren't mine.  
Unfortunately for me, I don't own Azeroth or Draenor, not even parts of them.

**Please comment.  


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_1. Don't panic_

He sat at the shore of the Hinterlands, not far away from the small Troll village, but far enough not to hear any other sound than the waves brake against the shore and some distant bird singing. He used to come here often, as it was the only place where no one would disturb him – and no one would find him, which was as important as not being disturbed sometimes. He always had his fishing rod with him but seldomly used it. This wasn't about fishing after all. It was about feeling alive again. Well, he had to admit to himself, it was about being drowned in his memories and not remembering what he was now. It was about not feeling dead all the time.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, time didn't matter to him any longer. He could have guessed by watching the sun and the shadows getting longer eventually, he had been very good at guessing the time once, but he didn't care now. Perhaps the party he had recently been with would wonder a little about his whereabouts – but they would certainly start looking for another caster if he didn't show up at the usual time.

Staring at the Ocean, lost in thoughts, he suddenly became aware of a relatively big shadow which moved underwater towards the exact place he was sitting at. He wondered what that might be, and, having no clue at all as this thing was not formed like a fish and didn't move like one either, he drew his dagger with his left and prepared to cast some spell should that shadow decide to attack him.

But when the shadow finally broke the surface of the Forbidden Sea's water all he could do was stare. Drops of sea water sparkled in the light of some last remaining sun strays ... on the blue troll's respectively green orcish skins of two well-shaped female bodies. One of them was gaping for air, but she still held the other one firmly pressed to her body – which made him stare even more, if that ever was possible.

"Couldn' yah just help, mon...", the breathing one then said, still sounding exhausted.

Which made him much aware of the fact that the other one wasn't breathing at all. He dropped his dagger, then waded into the water towards them. The Troll woman had already taken the Orc's limp body half the way towards him when he reached them, and told him with a gesture to lay the Orc's right arm around his shoulder so he could help her get the other one to the shore. They lay her down on her back into the grass where he had just been sitting. And then the Troll gave her the kiss of life. Or at least she tried, because when she backed away and felt the Orc's pulse, she muttered:

"Come on mon, I feel it, yah be still alive, jus' breede...", then continued with her attempt to resuscitate the other. After some seconds, she felt for the pulse again, but as the seconds passed, the look on her face grew worried.

"Don' do dis now, mon... yah has plans for dah future..."

As if to reply, the Orc chose this exact moment to start coughing badly. While the Troll helped her into a sitting position and then steadied her with one strong hand on her back, she looked at him again and asked:

"Don' yah have a healing potion for dah girl, mon? I be payin' for it..."

"Of course, I have. No need to pay for it though!", he replied, got one small vial, filled with red liquid, out of his bag, opened it and passed it to the Troll.

She took it, twitching ever so slightly when her hands met his cold ones, then held the vial to the Orc's pale lips, who obviously got better with every sip she took. He then realized that he had been looking at them without really seeing them before.

The Troll seemed to be about five years older than the Orc, but her hair already was of a dark grey that didn't seem to be the result of some colouring. The Orc was only somewhere in her mid-twenties yet, her head shaved except for a pair of jet black pigtails, her eyes as blue as the sky had been some hours before. Still, something about her didn't feel like with others of her people, but he just didn't get what it was – apart from her eyes – that attracted him to that one.

Lost in thoughts, he didn't hear the Troll talking at first.

"Huh?", was all he could manage to say then. 'Not being very eloquently today, are you?' he told himself.

"Me be askin' if yah goin' tah see me people in Revantusk village an' ask fah some help."

But the Orc then protested, her voice still being very hoarse: "I can go there by myself, don't need anyone to carry me there! I've had worse than that..."

"Girl, yah bein' stupid..."

"That shouldn't be any breaking news for you!", the Orc teased the other one, who then smirked and replied: "Yah be right... if yah be teasin' me already."

Then the Orc turned towards him and asked: "Could you come along? Just to the village, you know. I think, we are both a little exhausted from the last two hours of swimming. I know, there won't be any threats on the way, but still..."

"Don't worry, I will accompany you. The light will be fading soon enough and I had planned to get there before nightfall anyway."

*********

It was only when the Orc started to cast some familiar spell that he finally knew what had attracted him to her. She simply had that same faint smell of fel magic on her as he had – because she was a warlock, too. When the two of them had simultaneously mounted their dreadsteed, which the Troll on her black Raptor had commented by simply rolling her eyes, they went on their way to the Troll village in the south.

"By the way, what happened to you that you nearly drowned yourselves before?"

"Our diving session was a little long... the unending breath spell ended shortly before we got into an underwater fight and I only managed to cast it on Oriona again before my mana got sucked out by some nasty little creature. And then I simply didn't make it to the surface before I got out of breath, I guess."

"Yah be right.", came the Troll's reply.

Then the Orc suddenly looked a little surprised. "We haven't introduced ourselves, sorry for that."

"Yah be able tah talk when yah not conscious?", the other female asked with a smirk on her lips.

"No, but I am now!" The Orc turned to look at him and slightly waved into the Troll's direction. "That's Oriona. She and her cousin are the closest persons I have to a family. And I'm Keshi. Glad to meet you."

"I am Sepultros."

"Oh, that's an uncommon name for a Forsaken. Haven't you taken your old name again? Like the other Forsaken I know?"

"No. I didn't ...", he paused, then closed his eyes for an instant, and when he started to speak again, his voice sounded somewhat desperate. "Might you just ... not ask about it? It's a long story and I would rather not tell it."

"Oh, no problem." came Keshi's reply.

Still it did not sound like "Oh, no problem, I won't ask again." but like "Oh, no problem, you can tell it any time later.", which slightly unsettled him as it implied something he didn't like. It implied: "You have helped save my life, so I will stay around until I have settled my debt – and even afterwards perhaps ..." Well, the next morning, he would be leaving without them anyway, so he had nothing to be irritated of on long-term.

'Except those Trolls!', he thought, when they eventually rode into the village and the first thing he heard was: "Yah gots caught some nice fish t'ere, mon."

Only to be topped by the second thing he heard – when Oriona replied: "Me t'ink dah fish gots caught him."

"I'd be likin' bein' caught by a fish like yahself, lady.", was what she got as an answer then, which didn't seem to disturb her at all as she grinned even more than she had before.

Then she went straight to the inn to arrange their overnight stay. Which wasn't too hard as there were seldomly more than a handful of adventurers staying at Revantusk for the night – a Troll's handful that is. The Ogre who kept the inn even was in a good mood after he had learned that all of them would stay. When Oriona left the building, she looked around and saw that some of the Trolls had already gathered around the large fireplace in the village's centre.

"Yah be hungry?" she asked the two warlocks, pointing at the fireplace. "'cause it be 'bout time tah eat, yah see."

Without waiting for their answers, she walked over to the fireplace, sat down at the side of the very Troll who had been teasing her before, and started to unpack some food. The other two simply followed her and sat down where they found some space left. When Sepultros started to unpack his own food, Oriona looked at him and shook her head.

"Nah mon, yah gonna taste mah selfmade stuff tonight. Yah be invited!"

And before the Troll at her side could even open his mouth to drop a comment, she turned to him and continued:

"Yah be invited to taste mah stuff too, mon."

Which he then commented by simply sinking his teeth into a very tasty looking piece of meat – that she had still held in her hand.

The Forsaken raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know Trolls really were **that** wild."

"They are, but only with their own kin." Keshi told him and then imitated the Trolls' accent, quite well, he had to admit: "Yah can take dah Trolls outa dah jungle but yah can't take da jungle outa dah Trolls."

"Yah, mon. Right, mon.", came the voices from all around the fireplace.

*********

After some hours of talking, drinking, story-telling – in the Orc's case, and dancing around the fireplace – in the case of most of the Trolls, they had finally called it a day and had gone to sleep. Strangely enough, Sepultros did not fall directly into the coma-like state he used to call sleep nowadays when he lay down. He somehow had never felt that weird since ... well, since **before** his death.

After all, he was a Forsaken, and his kind were supposed to be anything but happy, weren't they. They did not feel **good** were they to meet any living people. They even greeted each other by "fear the living" quite often. But then again, he hadn't thought of his non-life for the whole evening, which was as close to "feeling good" as he would get to. The Trolls had been quite funny, the Orc did know some interesting fireplace stories – she simply had some kind of story-telling skill – and they had had some nice talk afterwards, while the Trolls had danced.

When he had asked her how she got to know these stories, she had simply laughed and said: "Most of it really happened way back in history. You know, when the stories about your ancestors is all your people has left to know who they are, these stories are told over and over again. And as I heard them quite a lot, I simply knew them by heart sooner or later. And I keep telling them to know who I am and what I'm made of."

"So what is it you're made of?"

"Draenor earth."

"That's how the Outland once was called, isn't it? So the Mag'har and the Azeroth Orcs are related?"

"Yes... but the ones who passed the dark portal and their descendants are also made of fel magic, that's why we were turned green. You know I would love to be the colour of the uncorrupted... but that tone of skin is part of me too. And ... although I don't like my green skin, I still use fel magic all the time."

She paused and stared into the fire for a while before she continued.

"Made of slavery, too. But you certainly know that part – how, about seven years ago, Thrall gathered the strongest warlords and freed his people... and how we went to Kalimdor and found our new home there..."

She seemed to get lost in thoughts again and he knew better than to disturb her, as he didn't like being disturbed during such moments either.

Afterwards, they had soon gone to the inn and said good night. Somehow, after having it thought over again, sleep finally took him into its arms, and as usual, he wasn't woken up by any sound until sunrise.

********

When he went out of his room the next morning, Oriona was already up.

"Keshi's still sleeping, I guess?", he asked.

"Nah mon." The Troll shook her head, looking a little worried. "Dah litte one left last night... wrote me a letter, she be goin' to some place in dah Alterac Mountains. Has to t'ink 'bout her past or somet'in'. Me t'ink dah place where she be goin' to was dah place she had been when she was a slave..."

Somehow those news made his heart twitch. Keshi hadn't even said goodbye, and it ... it hurt, didn't it. He didn't understand how this was even possible. How could he have feelings, let alone be hurt if he had no soul to have feelings. Well, he knew, he **had** a soul, otherwise soul stones and other resurrections would not have worked on him. But he had not had anything close to feelings other than desperation for the last five years, which meant **ever** since he had become a Forsaken.

"She writin' she be seein' me in dah Shatt city tonight before our little group be goin' tah slaughter some evil ones ... T'inkin' of dat ... Yah be joinin' us? She often complains 'bout bein' dah only warlock on our adventures. And we be needin' a caster anyway. Me t'ink she be happy if yah come."

Sepultros didn't know why he nodded so quickly to Oriona's proposition, but then again, there wasn't anything to do apart from fighting all the villains in the Outland, so it wouldn't hurt to have a regularly playing party with which he could do so – without always having to look for some random group. And he had not been on any of the big adventures yet although he would have wanted to. What he didn't even admit to himself though was that some part of him simply wanted to meet the other warlock again.

"T'en let's go, mon...", the Troll said, and they both used their portkeys to Shattrath city where they would soon meet Keshi again.

_Finis ... de initii._


	2. Who I am

The whole storyline is a prequel to "Keshi".  
Sepultros betaed, as usual. Wherever names are mentioned, the chars belong to their owners. I own my little Orc lock - and her story, too.  
The titles of the storyline (song by RHCP) and story (song by Smile Empty Soul) aren't mine.  
Unfortunately for me, I don't own Azeroth or Draenor, not even parts of them.  
**Please comment.**

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_2. Who I am_

_She was kneeling in one corner of the small room, her hands firmly tied behind her back. Somehow she must have lost the ability of seeing colours, as everything was in black and white – except for the dark red blood that flowed out of her parents' bodies, leaving a river of red liquid on the floor. The Human, who looked like a soldier – but somehow she was sure he wasn't one at all – had a huge grin on his face when her finally turned towards her._

"_Was it fun to watch your parents die, little one? Well, don't be afraid, you will soon follow them..."_

_She looked at him and didn't even flinch when he crossed the room, but there still was a veil of red behind her eyes that slightly disturbed her view. So that was how it felt to be in a real orcish rage..._

_He lifted her to her feet and tore apart her vest with a quick movement of his hands. She stood perfectly still, but watched every single move he made. There was no doubt about his real identity – he was a rogue, and a very skilled one, too. But she would find a way to turn the balance of power to her favour, somehow, eventually. If only her hands weren't bound..._

"_Aw, come on girl, it's no fun if you don't fight back... At least do something...", he hissed in her ear. But still, she didn't think he wanted to do anything else than kill her. He wasn't the kind of Human who would rape a girl **after** having killed her parents, so he had a task, was paid for killing them or something. That wouldn't leave her much time left. But she still couldn't do anything without her hands..._

"_Okay, so if you don't scream or try to kick me or spit at me... then I don't have to make it slow anyway..."_

_With that, he turned her halfway round, cut the leather bonds with the dagger in his left, and, with a smooth movement of both his hands, simultaneously sliced the skin on her front and back from the left shoulder down to the right hip bone._

_This was when she blacked out._

_When she came to her senses again, everything around her was shrouded in some kind of mist and the voices she heard seemed to be coming from behind a heavy curtain. The rogue was gone, but there were other people standing in the room, other people like her, other **Orcs**... and had the back door been closed when she had passed out? She didn't think so. The Orcs talked, but she didn't hear them very well although they were standing quite close to her._

"_...dead, but the girl...chances...", said one of them who looked like a shaman._

"_...try...", replied the tallest of them, who seemed to be their leader, before he left the room._

"_What? You have to speak louder, I don't understand you...", she asked – and then became aware of the fact that no one noticed her, no one heard her..._

_When the shaman then kneeled down next to her, and leaned over the body that was lying at her feet, and which she hadn't noticed before, she eventually realized why no one heard her. It was **her** body lying on the floor at her feet. The shaman then cast the resurrection spell, which suddenly made her scream find some vocal chords to be transported through the air. And she screamed her lungs out, screamed out her fear, her loss, her agony, but most of all her hatred and rage._

o°o°o°o°o°o

Keshi woke up with a sharp intake of breath and sat up straight in her bed. Well, not exactly in her bed but in the hammock in the Revantusk village's inn. That same nightmare was chasing her again. That nightmare which actually wasn't a nightmare... she stared into the darkness outside. She knew it had not happened **because** of the liberators' arrival, it had not been them being responsible for her parents' death, it had been them being the reason for **her** survival.

Sure, had they arrived only a few minutes earlier, her family would still be alive. But then, neither would she be what she was today nor would she know any of the people she called friends nowadays.

She thought of the last evening which had been one of the most pleasant she had had for a long time. Still, it had somehow brought back her darkest memories. Those she didn't want to think about – as they were always combined with a certain feeling. A feeling she tried to suppress most of the time as she had no one to focus it on: hatred – and along with it the burning need of avenging her family.

Then, the Orc warlock stood up, took a deep breath to clear her head,... and simply knew what she had to do. So she packed her belongings, and as the others were still fast asleep, wrote a short note to inform Oriona of her whereabouts. Then she left the inn by simply jumping off the stairs that led down to the first floor, summoned her dreadsteed and followed the path out of the village towards her destination which she wanted to reach before noon – the Alterac Mountains.

As nothing happened along the way, her mind soon drifted back to the dream, or the vision of her past or whatever she should call it. The Orcs' leader, she hadn't seen him very clearly through the white mist that the ghost world was, but still, there was no doubt about who it had been, not after she had seen him again in the vision tonight.

Thrall...

She slightly shook her head. Why hadn't she realized **that** before? Not even when she had gone into the Caverns of Time and helped him flee from the camp at the Hillsbrad Foothills when he had been about the same age... Well, now that she knew she would certainly find a way to pay that debt. And she would certainly find that shaman who saved her life then – and pay that debt, too...

When the sun rose, she made a short break to eat and drink something, but soon enough continued her journey to the west.

o°o°o°o°o°o

_Finally, she had found him, found her worst enemy, the one person who **really** was responsible for her parents' death. It had took her quite some research, including money and time, but it had been worth it. When the night had at least fallen onto the small village near the Lordamere Lake, and the candle lights had gone out one after the other, she had made her way into the house where the Human was supposed to live._

_Soon, without having made a single sound while crossing the house, she was at the side of his bed, pressing her faintly glowing dagger against his neck._

"_I expected you to come sooner, girl..." the man whispered in a hoarse voice and she could hear him grinning as he spoke. "You nearly would have been too late..."_

_A shadow emerged from the deep darkness besides the door that lay in her back. Neither did she see nor hear him, only felt the sudden coolness when the blade of a dagger entered the flesh under her right shoulder blade. She didn't understand at first why the rogue in her back had not stunned her. Was he so sure about his superiority that he didn't even believe it necessary to prevent her from casting spells..._

_But then, she felt a wave of agony wash over her – and it was not only the wound in her back. Now she knew why he hadn't... The poison he had sent pulsing through her veins would eventually weaken her and make it impossible to cast any spell at all in no time. She could nearly see the grin in the rogue's voice as he whispered in her ear:_

"_You nearly would have been too late, because the poison would have worn out soon."_

_He hasn't stunned me... was all she could think of. And with a precision and grace which the rogue obviously hadn't expected as it caught him off-guard, she told her imp to attack him, sent the rogue running through the room in fear and used the time she had thus won to cast some instantly working shadow magic curses. Those would not only damage him but also partly drain his energy off his body and into hers. So perhaps, they would also give her some time before the poison took her out._

_Only afterwards did she turn around to face the rogue, who had finally succeeded in escaping her fear spell, but was slowed down by the agony washing through his body. Still, he succeeded in reaching her, hitting her hard with his daggers and somehow even stun her. She felt dizzy, and for an instant even thought she might go down first. But the imp continued to send regular fire bolts into the rogue's direction, weakening him, making the air smell of burnt flesh._

_Eventually, she succeeded to escape the stun, and while her furious opponent had turned onto her imp, she immediately cast a shadow bolt in his direction. But the exact moment she ended the powerful shadow magic spell, a wave of agony washed over her, so strong it made her fall down on her knees – and made her shadow bolt miss the rogue._

_She breathed heavily, still thinking about how stupid that had been, casting the spell and missing it, having the rogue's attention again, but not the ways to fight him back any longer. She knew the poison wouldn't wear off any time soon. Still, it didn't matter if it killed her in the end, if only she succeeded in killing him, too. _

_And then she felt the rage wash through her, strengthening her weak body, making her get on her feet again but also lose her mind. She would kill him this time, no matter the cost. She would be the one surviving – if only long enough to kill the other Human as well._

_Without thinking about what to do next, the spells were much more effective and she was much quicker than usually. Fire burnt him from inside, the shadow magic consumed him, and while she felt him dying, she cast the one spell to drain his soul and finish him off._

_When he had finally died, she didn't even notice the small shard that pressed itself into the palm of her left hand. Still seeing nothing more than the red veil behind her eyes, she grabbed her dagger, walked over to where her last fearing spell had sent the rogue, and ripped apart his chest._

_As soon as the rage wore off, she realized something very important: That definitely was **not** the rogue who had nearly killed her those few years ago..._

"_Why so quiet, girl? Is the poison already consuming you?" the other Human asked._

_At his words, she coughed heavily, her knees hitting the floor hard when she fell down for the second time. But she knew she would survive. 'Long enough to kill you.', she thought. Her left hand reached into her pocket, let the soul shard slip inside and pulled out a little green stone which looked like a drop. Without thinking, she swallowed it whole, which made the coughing stop and restored enough of her energy to get her on her feet again._

_She didn't say a single word then, she didn't need to tell him that she knew everything about him, even why he had engaged an assassin to have her family killed, even that he suffered of an incurable illness which, in some weeks time, would have killed him anyway. But she needed to do this by herself. After all, it wasn't about seeing him suffer, it was about **her** revenge. So she had nothing to say to him, nothing to reproach him for, only to finally take her revenge._

_She turned back the bed sheet to see a figure that reminded her of a Forsaken one's so thin was he. But this here wasn't about pity either. She simply wanted to pay back what he had given her once..._

_With a smooth movement, still without saying a word or making a sound, she sliced his chest open with her dagger, from the left shoulder down to the right hip bone, fury and hatred burning in her eyes. He didn't even scream, so exhausted was he from the disease, still his eyes grew wide with pain and with a last whispered "Finally..." he passed out._

_She wanted to be sure he wasn't resurrected – even if that would not have given him much time to live anyway. She wanted to be sure he didn't become anything else after his death. She wanted to be able to see his dead face every time she had to ensure herself that tonight really had happened. _

_So she grabbed his hair with her left and, with the dagger in her right, sliced his neck open until she met his cervical vertebrae, then used her dagger like a cleaver, chopping apart the bones, which was quite a bloody procedure, until she had eventually separated his head from his shoulders. Then she turned towards the rogue's limp body and – much more cold-blooded now than she had been before, repeated the procedure on him._

_After she had finished, she cleaned her hands and dagger on the bed's white sheets, put the dagger away, with her free hand searched inside her bag for a smaller one she had brought along, put her enemies' heads inside and left the room without ever looking back._

o°o°o°o°o°o

Absent-mindedly, Keshi lay her hand onto the two small bags which always hung at her side, fastened to her belt. She had taken her enemies' heads with her after having killed them, then followed her best friend's instruction about how to get a shrunken head to the word – she was sure Oriona still thought she had asked out of pure curiosity then – to eventually be able to carry them with her all the time... without anyone noticing that she actually had two skulls, well two shrunken heads in her inventory.

Somehow, she really had got lost in her memories – as she suddenly became aware that Tarren Mill lay only another half an hour ahead. She looked at the sun, which wasn't too high up in the sky and nodded contentedly: She would reach the Alterac Mountains before noon as she had expected. Her head was spinning slightly, but she decided that the rest at Tarren Mill would suffice.

o°o°o°o°o°o

When she had woken up in the middle of the night, she knew she would finally be free today. Somehow, it had felt right to go to Alterac Valley. She didn't know how she could be sure about it, but today, she would find the assassin. Either she would have her final revenge, or he could at least complete his task, she didn't know yet which one it would be in the end. And somehow, it didn't even matter any more.

At about noon, she arrived at Frostwolf Keep, where some other adventurers were already standing around, waiting for the battle to begin. Most of them had obviously fought here before and had gained the clan's respect, as they wore armour that only the Frostwolves provided. Well, she hadn't been here very often, so she was rather badly equipped for the task that lay at hand. But she hadn't come to fight the Stormpike expedition anyway. She was here to fight one Alliance member in particular.

One of the others, an Orc shaman and obviously a natural leader, told them what their tasks would be. When he came up to her, he wrinkled his brow at the sight of her clothing, then stated:

"Simply stay behind, cast your spells from some distance – and try not to be killed, girl."

Girl... she would show him how much of a girl she was. But before she could think of a reply, she suddenly realized that he **really** was much older than her, and she saw the worried look in his face, too. So she simply nodded, although she had no intention to stay behind once she saw the rogue she had been searching for years.

Another group of adventurers arrived, so the Orc nodded at her and walked over to them. She watched his back while he talked to them. Her father had never been an adventurer so he would never have given her any instructions about how to fight. Still, the older Orc had made her much aware of the fact that she had no one left to give her instructions at all, except for those people she randomly met on her adventures.

She watched the new ones who seemingly only had arrived at the same time without being a real group at all. The two Tauren druids obviously were a couple, but neither the Troll priest, nor the Blood Elf mage or the Undead rogue talked to the others. She watched the Orc shaman walk back towards his own group, giving them some more instructions, when she realized her mind wanted to tell her something important.

So, she looked at the Undead rogue once more, which suddenly made the deadly orcish rage take possession of her, obscuring her view with the red veil that she had only seen on rare occasions before. No, it couldn't be... it couldn't be him... he couldn't fight on their side after all he had done... he couldn't... but then, why was she so sure about it, why was her blood boiling in her veins like that...

Why was she suddenly pointing at him, screaming out: "**You**... murderer. How can you fight as a member of the Horde! How can you respect our leader after what you have done to his race!"

Everyone looked at her sudden outburst of emotions and the Orc shaman was at her side in no time, asking in a low voice: "What are you talking about, girl? Lower your voice if you have no proof of the things you're talking about..."

She looked at him to make him see the burning rage in her eyes, which caused him to throw another worried look at her, then ask: "What has he done to enrage you so?"

The expression in her face grew grim. She could not think any more, only feel. Feel the hatred burn her veins, burn her mind, burn any other feeling she had ever had. With a harsh and violent movement, she ripped apart her robes and exclaimed: "**That** is what he has done to me,..." and with a much lower voice she added: "That, and making me an orphan..."

Everybody stared at her, no matter if they stood in front of her or in her back. The large scar enveloped her torso like a pale green ribbon and it was obvious that it was an old scar, one she had got in her early youth. Those who looked at her back also saw that relatively fresh scar under her right shoulder blade, which was quite small but looked even more repulsive than the other one, as if something had slowed down the healing process considerably.

The rogue, who had become even paler than he was before, looked at the scar in disbelief and murmured: "That cannot be..."

She wanted to get closer to him, wanted to rip him apart, to let her anger and hatred flow into her hands and simply kill him like he had tried to kill her once. Only the grip on her shoulder was so firm she couldn't tear herself away from it.

"Don't make it consume you, girl! We've been consumed by it once, we don't need that to happen again!" the shaman whispered.

Suddenly, a shout filled the air: "We're under attack!"

And then hell broke loose.

o°o°o°o°o°o

Someone, perhaps it had been the shaman, but she couldn't tell afterwards, had passed her some cloth garment, told her to put it on to replace her torn robes, and to stay behind the others, no matter what happened.

The rage had not worn out yet, but although she cast one spell after the other without thinking, she managed to stay behind the battle line somehow. The Alliance forces were not too well prepared as it seemed, one after the other was killed by the Horde defenders who worked together as a group and did exactly what the shouted orders told them to.

When the last wave of Alliance adventurers was forced to retreat, and her side had obviously won the battle without even attacking, considering the cheers of joy around her, the shaman walked over to her.

"Well done, girl." he said while firmly grabbing her shoulder. "And remember what I told you earlier!"

With his right hand still laying on her left shoulder, she looked him in the eyes and, with a dedicated tone in her voice, replied: "I will, I promise... I will."

"I know, girl... ", the other Orc told her with something like a proud look on his face.

Then he looked at the Forsaken rogue whose shoulders had considerably sunk down after the end of the battle.

"Come here. I think you need to talk to the girl..."

The rogue was more than willing to follow the other's order and walked over towards the two Orcs. With a clouded expression he looked at Keshi's face, then at the waistcoat that now covered her torn chest.

"Listen, I did not remember any of it, let alone anything of my former life – until I saw your scar. Then everything fell back in place... including that night when I tried to kill you – and succeeded in killing your parents...I was paid to do this, but when I learned that there would be a child, I tried to resign... he sent another rogue to force me to kill you and your family then... still, it is no excuse for what I've done to you... And I don't know how I could ever repay you giving me my memories back... even if I killed the others for you..."

She shook her head, the movement making her at last feel her exhaustion as she felt her head spinning slightly afterwards.

"Don't try to repay me... and I am sorry, but I will not be able to forgive you the murder of my parents. I cannot forgive you... you are not the one who did this to me... Someone you have once been did this to me... but I suppose this one has died some years ago... Though it is a little hard to accept that the Scourge has done what I wanted to do..."

"It had not been the Scourge which killed me, the Scourge has somehow given me back some sort of life ... my client made the other rogue kill me after the murder… didn't trust me, I guess...", the Forsaken replied.

Keshi grinned at the other's words, … how could anybody in his right senses possibly trust a rogue at all.

"Tell me," she began, then took the two small bags off her belt, opened them, took out the contents and showed the rogue both of the heads. "... is this your client? And the other one... your murderer?"

The rogue suddenly wore a stunned look on his face, not being able to do anything else but nod at the sight of two very well fabricated shrunken heads.

"Dat be nice work, mon", the Troll priest, who still helped the Orc shaman to treat the wounded adventurers, shouted at Keshi. "Yah bein' good friends wit' a Troll when you get t'em of t'is quality..."

Keshi laughed when she heard the Troll's compliment but didn't see any reason to correct him about who actually had done the work. She wouldn't tell anybody else than Oriona who had made those. And she wouldn't even tell her friend if she hadn't to...

Eventually, the rogue remembered how to speak and whispered: "Yes, that's him..."

"Do you want to keep him? I'm quite satisfied with having the other one hanging around."

"No I don't think... I..." He paused to search for the right words not even noticing the joke she had made. "Would you have done **this** to me if..."

Keshi simply nodded at his question.

"Oh..." was all he could reply then. He looked at the two heads with something like disgust, obviously not because of what it was now but because of who it had been. "No, just keep him. I think by now, I should be even thankful for him murdering me. I seem to be far better off than those two."

Keshi laughed: "You certainly are..."

When they had finished talking, the two of them helped to reconstruct the barriers at the entrance to Frostwolf Keep, working side by side all the time.

o°o°o°o°o°o

Keshi had reached Tarren Mill some minutes ago, deeply lost in thoughts. Even if she knew the Forsaken she had met today no longer was the person who had once tried to kill her, it had been hard to give up her hatred – and it had not vanished entirely since the moment she had recognized her parents' assassin.

She had sat down on the chapel's steps, unpacked her dinner – which was the same as her lunch had been, roasted turtle meat Oriona had given her yesterday – and started to eat. Some of the Forsaken had walked past her, but as usual, they would not address her as long as she kept that cold expression on her face which told the others not to disturb her.

Suddenly, she heard an uncommon sound coming from the direction of the flight master. She looked up but didn't yet see the origin of that sound – until she saw an impressing white lion turn around the corner, which was running up to her. She was very glad then that she didn't stand but sit, as the lion jumped at her, knocked her over and started to purr while still sitting on her chest. It sounded more like a growl, but she was relatively sure that this particular lion would not growl at her.

"Yah be careful wit' dah little Orc, mon.", a well-known voice told the lion, before the Troll hunter who belonged to that voice somehow managed to lift him up enough to force him off Keshi's chest.

The lion wasn't too fond of that but eventually sat down at the warlock's site instead of **on** her. His owner did the same at her other side and said:

"Yah be worryin' me, mon. Leavin' in dah middle of dah night wit' not'in' but a short note."

"Yeah... sorry for that. I had some sort of nightmare... brought back all the bad souvenirs. So I thought it wouldn't be too bad to visit the old places and get rid of all the stuff in my mind that clings to it."

"Yah be not gettin' rid of it, mon. And I don't t'ink yah really be wantin' dat anyway. Dat be part of **yah** history, part of who yah be. But yah know, Yakee an' mahself will be comin' wit' yah."

"You're right... this is all about who I am. Even the rage that burns inside me sometimes... But I think the Lordamere Lake tour would still be a good idea. Perhaps I could tell you some shrunken head story down there."

"Dat be great. Let's go, mon. Yakee be needin' a little run."

Oriona smirked when they left Tarren Mill for the Alterac Mountains. She had always wanted to know why Keshi had been so eager to learn about the procedure – and, as she knew the warlock perfectly well, wanted to finally have a look at said shrunken head.


End file.
